


This moment's all you got

by monanotlisa



Series: I'll Feed your Heart [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alien Biology, Aliens, Consent, Episode Related, Episode Tag, F/F, Femslash, Gratuitous Smut, Mild Kink, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Sex Toys, SuperCorp, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, somewhat D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 07:28:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8615047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monanotlisa/pseuds/monanotlisa
Summary: Title probably a bit too meta for what's essentially just porn. Follows Supergirl 2x06 "Changing" and will be obsolete five minutes after posting. But so it goes.





	

Lena watches her mother walk out of her office. Her slow step is meant to convey authority and power, of course. More fitting if she’d disappeared with a puff in a cloud of sulfur, Lena thinks, and then shakes her head to clear it. Her mother is her mother; there’s no doubt her mother spends zero time cackling in a corner, and two-hundred percent of the day creating a more shadowy take on technology meant to give humanity the upper hand in dealing with aliens...any aliens.

The latter she knew before her mother came in. The latest knowledge is much more vexing. _So I’ve seen the gala coverage, you and your little gal-pal._ The words were snide, but her mother’s expression was almost cheerful. _I appreciate your networking with the media, CatCo in particular, but even more I appreciate that baiting Kara Danvers hooked Supergirl._ Her mother had been watching her face, and smiled. _Why yes, Lena, they’re one and the same; we have proof. And great plans for her._

Lena looks down at her carefully, perfectly manicured fingers balled into fists. She releases them slowly, breathes in. Her mother’s tone was one thing; she’s not the Little Luthor any more (barely one at all); she’s the Luthor child who played the long game and won. But that bit of news was like being broken up with just when you had decided to break up -- galling, and terribly timed.

Maybe Lena can make the timing work for her. She knows she’s worrying her lower lip, and that won’t do. She stops. She can do better things with her mouth. Not to mention her hands. Lena’s fingers stroke across the smartphone keypad. Hit Send.

And now, all that’s left to do is wait. It shouldn’t be long, actually. She opens the lowest drawer at her desk, its hidden back compartment, and takes out what’s crystal and loops, sculpture-like. Her lamp is well-placed to make the light catch in its facets when Lena sets it down on the edge and smiles. Art is meant to be a conversation piece. This one should yield a vocal reaction, indeed.

She does track the cameras; she’s no fool. But still it gives her a hot, sharp thrill to hear the fast pitter-patter of feet in front of her heavy wooden office doors. And then, the woman Lena has asked for has arrived. She’s Kara, now, but that’s the girl who caught Lena’s eye from the get-go, after all.

“I got your text; are you okay?” Soft voice, worried, but more confused than scared. Now it makes sense that Kara was always sweetly optimistic about fluttering around National City in soft cardigans and argyle pastels. She wouldn’t have to fear any dark alley, or corporate goons behind office doors: Her Kryptonian x-ray vision would have allowed her to scan the office, to see Lena was all alone in it -- on the whole floor, in fact.

“I’m good. Come in.” Lena has honed the tone to perfection; there’s enough silk sheathing the steel.

She can see Kara swallow but gamely step forward. She’s not holding her reporter’s pad, but she does have a little satchel slung under her arm. Her hair is looser than usual today, at this late hour: soft waves escaping the ponytail, and her glasses are just the tiniest hint askew. She pushes them up; as ever the gesture still makes Lena itch to take them off. “What’s up, Lena?”

“Well.” Lena stands up and wanders around the desk. “Like I said, I’m in a bit of a bind. But you can help me.”

Kara narrows her eyes, then opens them widely because Lena smiles at her without having to fake it at all. Up close, Kara’s eyes are not all-blue; they’re a starburst, green hues and a dash of gold. “Um...how?”

“By setting this down, for starters.” Lena gently takes the bag Kara is clutching out of her hands and puts it on the desk behind her. She does it in a sweeping gesture, draws Kara’s gaze to the desk. “And relaxing. Enjoying the scenery, Kara.”

Kara stares at Lena immediately. The blush on her cheeks is enormously satisfying. Not that Lena would deny she has a hard time looking away from the girl. Woman. Alien. Kara’s gaze dutifully wanders -- to the glittering skyline of National City beyond the glass windows, back to Lena. Lena hitches one hip up her desk for maximum effect of showcasing the sculpture.

“This is nice,” Kara murmurs. “I...have I ever seen this before?” Her fingers reach out, run curiously down the curves of the glass. She seems unsure, hesitant. One step from shuffling her sensible little feet. A part of Lena that she usually keeps locked down tight is cracking open.

“You wouldn’t have, no.” Lena lets her hand touch Kara’s, slowly running her fingertips along the line of Kara’s knuckles (flawless, but now Lena knows better). Kara lets out a shaky breath. Lena looks at their hands, the rise of goosebumps on Kara’s arm. “But there’s many things you haven’t seen yet.”

Kara’s mouth opens, a soundless _oh!_ , and that’s nice; Lena is not exactly being subtle. “You’re...hitting on me.” She doesn’t sound distressed, just -- the best word’s probably _flummoxed_ , and yes, Lena is well aware that’s just her education talking.

“Is it working?” She asks sweetly.

Kara does a little thing with her mouth that’s quite indescribable. “Maybe,” she murmurs.

Lena stands up. In two-inch heels she’s as tall as Kara, which makes it easy to lean in, brush her lips across the shell of Kara’s ear. “Tell me you want this, Kara.” Kara shivers at her touch, and what’s more, she doesn’t move away. This close Lena can see the rapid rise and fall of her chest. At the end of the day, even Supergirl’s make-up has worn thin, and there’s a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Lena’s fingers are still stroking along the skin of Kara’s hands, clenched around the statue as if desperately trying to hold onto something tangible. “Kara. I can step back now and let this go, forever. I will still give you interviews. I will still take you to events. Tell me to leave and I’ll do it.”

Kara’s lashes drop. “Don’t leave. Please”

Lena’s left hand closes around Kara’s wrist, and she can feel a shockwave run through Kara’s body. It’s not a gentle grip, and God, it doesn’t have to be, not with this girl. With her right hand Lena tugs at a stray curl near Kara’s now-red ears and, ever efficient, pulls out the ribbon that holds Kara’s hair back. It falls across her shoulders, and Kara lets out a soft little sound. She sounds impatient, and that too probably shouldn’t come as a surprise. Her mouth is tentative on Lena’s -- lipgloss, pink and sweet like this persona she’s wrapped so tightly around her, but that’s fine. For a start. Lena brushes her nose lightly against Kara’s and opens her mouth. The first touch of Kara’s tongue is soft, but Lena plays a little cat-and-mouse, and _right_ ; Kara breathes harder and kisses her just so, still making these little sounds that drive Lena up the wall, that make her wet and even more wanting. Finally, finally Lena plucks the glasses off her face and puts them on the desk behind her, cutting off Kara’s sound of -- protest? Instruction? -- with her lips. Lena’s not going to break the glasses. She’s not going to break the girl.

But, the idea that she couldn’t even if she tried is heady. Lena puts Kara’s hand on her chest, and Kara takes direction so well; she gently cups Lena, and her other hand settles on her hip, following its curve into the small of Lena’s back. There’s strength in how Kara holds her; it makes Lena’s toes curl. The buttons on Kara’s cardigan pop easily, and Kara’s lips separate from Lena’s with a wet sound. She stares down at both their thin tops. “Oh...should we talk about this?”

“Me undressing you?” Lena continues; the little blouse slides down Kara’s shoulders with less than a whisper of fabric. “My mouth on you?”

“For, uh, example.” Kara is amazingly talkative during sex; this is not something Lena had expected but finds she likes. “I guess...I’ve thought about your mouth a lot. You can -- you cannot bite me, though.”

Interesting. Who else used their teeth on little Kara Danvers and was perplexed by that leaving no marks? “Who says I want to — though you’re right; I find you extremely appetizing.”

Kara half-laughs, which turns into a gasp when Lena rips slides her (sensible) bra up and closes her lips around Kara’s left nipple, lets her thumb and forefinger rub against the right one. Kara pushes forward, into Lena, mumbles, “Keep going.” They’re stiff, pebbled, and when Lena swirls her tongue in a figure eight, Kara moans quietly. Her own fingers are lifting up Lena’s silk shirt, spread out in the small of Lena’s back. Kara’s hands are so warm, open up the clasp of Lena’s own (much less sensible) bra with dexterity. How interesting.

Lena slips to her feet and pivots, pushes Kara against the desk in her stead. Kara’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t look away, and she doesn’t cover herself, merely balances herself on the surface and doesn’t cover herself up. Good. That would be a shame, because Kara Danvers in nothing but a skimpy skirt, bare and luminous, is a sight. “Get on,” Lena says, and underlines her command with two taps. 

“On…the desk?” Kara blinks, but she also does hop on. “You — okay…” Her voice trails off as Lena doesn’t lose time to slide the zipper of the skirt and then the skirt itself down. It’s not even the argyle, or the pastel; Lena just wants Kara, and Kara, thankfully, understands and is helpful with toeing her underwear off. “If I’d known I’d worn different underwear,” she says, breathless but earnest, and now it’s Lena who laughs. It wouldn’t have lasted any longer than this. Lena doesn’t have to do a thing; Kara bites her lip and spreads her legs for her. Given how hard Kara’s scent hits Lena’s nose, she has to wonder: whether she should have, could have done this a long time ago, when they first met. Lena slides Kara open, like a lily, like an orange, like all things sweet and to be adored. Lena sinks to her knees and barely feels the impact of the floor; Kara is slick under her tongue, and her taste drowns out all other sensation. “ _Lena_. 

Here, too, Lena paints patterns, darts and swirls. Kara is whimpering, happy, helpless, and the way her back slides on the desk shifts and makes the light hit her just so. And — Lena knows the sound she just made was high, startled, and she pulls back a little because this she’s never seen. No two women look the same, of course, but while Kara’s anatomy passes fully at first glance, that’s not really the case: Around her clit, as if guarding it, there’s a circle of soft, sweet skin, unfurling under Lena’s tongue, swaying back and forth. Now that Lena is stopping, staring, the…not-really-petals are moving to close again, into a seamless coverlet. 

Kara lets out a sound, questioning, needy. “Is…everything okay? Lena?”

And Lena swallows, nods. “More than okay.” And it is. More. When she leans in again and licks a long stripe, downside-up, Kara shivers agreeably, and with her arousal the revelation hits: A tiny sun surrounds Supergirl’s clit. She would laugh out loud, if it weren’t considered rude, and would bring up some different discussion besides. Lena doesn’t want discussion. She just wants Kara undone.

And it takes just a few more strokes of her tongue, nudge with her nose, and Kara’s hand in her hair tightens and her voice rises in pitch; she’s moving, trembling hard and flushing all over. She bites of a name that starts with “R,” but Lena doesn’t quite catch it. Lena catches the word a minute later, though: “Thank you.” It’s dazed but genuine, heartfelt, and again Lena has to work on that feeling inside her chest. 

When she stands up, Kara effortlessly pulls her in, kisses her sweetly. “You, you know by now I don’t have any other experience with women, but I’m happy to — you know?” She wiggles her fingers and smiles, and oh, God, Lena wants to take her up on it, now that she knows Kara’s learning curve as well as other curves. 

“Later.” She leans in. “Time for another moment of truth, though: You’re not a virgin?” 

Kara giggles. “No! I mean, I haven’t had a lot of boyfriends. Or, more than one. But, not a virgin in any way now.” She’s clearly trying to bring herself back on a less giddy plane. “Um, why do you…” Her question trails off, because when Lena has stepped back, she’s also picked up the glass statue on her desk. Just a little twist, and the shape separates into two parts. “I see that’s why.”

It’s the loveliest glass dildo Lena has ever had the pleasure of — well, just the pleasure of, she supposes. “I’ve been dying to try this one out. Did you know it’s fashioned in an Argentine mine out of quartz from a meteor?” There is a flash of bright blue in Kara’s eyes, and Lena hastens to add, “Fused quartz, nothing else: glass as clear as it gets.” She touches the tip of it to one of Kara’s nipples. It’s cold; Kara’s nipple tightens. Lena slowly draws the letters L, E, N, A onto Kara, around her bellybutton, moves lower still. “Would you like something to cool you down a little, Kara?”

For a moment, Kara’s eyes are still-bright, and her voice is resounding, “I’m not sure this will achieve that end.”

“Hmm,” Lena concedes, runs the rounded glass head along Kara’s folds, dips gently, but only to gather moisture. “But it sure does have an end. Would you like more of that?”

Kara grows quieter again, and although she shrinks a little back into herself she does, she does open her legs wider. If not look away from Lena’s face this time. “Yes.”

Lena is an artist at her craft, and she takes her time for another long slick journey, this time with more pressure. Only on the fifth loop she slips more of the dildo inside Kara, and the choked-off moan is music; it really is. Kara squirms at every inch of the spiral disappearing inside her, but she’s not fighting it — she’s enjoying every swirl, every inch. “Lena…”

“I’ve got you.” _Supergirl_ she barely manages to not add. But it’s very hard to maintain careful, calculated motions now, and when Kara tilts her head up and opens her mouth, Lena kisses Karas softly but pushes the dildo hard and fast, then hard and faster inside her, and Kara starts moaning into her mouth again, clenching so hard around the dildo that for a moment, she rips it straight out of Lena’s hand. “Oh,” Lena can’t help but say, and for a heartbeat she’s almost scared. 

But that heartbeat passes, and she takes hold of the dildo again, gentles Kara through her climax before pulling out, and Kara relaxes fully, arms tight around Lena’s middle. “Wow,” Kara murmurs, and nuzzles Lena’s neck. “This was so good. I still want to…you need to get undressed.” 

Yes, Lena does. She knows she can do that. What she doesn’t know —

“Can we do this again later?”

Lena turns her head into the softness underneath Kara’s jaw and breathes the truth into impenetrable skin. “I very much want to.”

**Author's Note:**

> I blame lierdumoa. One moment I am roping her into the queerest-ever second season of _Supergirl_ , the next she's fondly reminiscing about alien genitalia in her _Smallville_ heyday, and...well, you know the rest. I take my cracky premises very seriously, y'all.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Place your bets in life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8680714) by [monanotlisa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monanotlisa/pseuds/monanotlisa)




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